


what it's worth

by valleyfernwill



Category: Video Blogging (RPF), mcyt
Genre: Angst, M/M, fuck wha is tags, idk what else to tag, prison dnf, sorta dnf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-15 14:27:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29190786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/valleyfernwill/pseuds/valleyfernwill
Summary: George pays a visit to Dream to give him a somewhat sentimental item.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 49





	what it's worth

"For whatever it's worth, here." George digs into his pocket and threw a withered flower onto the cell's floor.

Dream picked it up. It was the same rose in the same bouquet he wanted to give George before Tommy's exile. 

The rose's once vibrant colors were now dull and dehydrated. The leaves wilted with depression and lack of water, sunlight, and care. The petals were soft and easy to break off. Looked like George gave up on it.

"I'm not throwing this flower to commemorate your actions nor giving you my pity or sympathy, George growled. It was something he was not used to doing. He knew he was not intimidating Dream in the slightest. He didn't care at the moment. What he did care, though, was him shoving his anger and hatred towards the man he once titled friend. 

"I'm only here to get rid of the stupid thing," George replied with irritation in his tone, "I could've burnt it on the way here, or stomped on it think it was you, or torn it apart like you did with my heart. But, no, I'm giving this to you because I wanted to see _you_ destroy it."

There was great silence hanging over the air. Dream's face spoke emotionlessly. The lava gurgled. The clock ticked. Pure tension.

"I want to see you burn or tear your own gift to me in your own hands. Just like what you did to my mind. You drive me insane, making me conflict with myself and I hate it," George clunged to the bars. 

George stood up, eyes puffy and nose red. 

"I hope the thorns prick you," George spat.

And then, he left. 

Felt like hours since the Brit left him hanging. Dream looked at the obsidian ground, then at the dying rose. 

George was right. It _was_ one of the roses he bought from Niki's once-not-blown-up flower shop.   
  


He gave it a sniff. Unfortunately, it didn't smell like anything.

He tucked it away in his chest then went to bed, thinking about the only visit from his boyfriend.

**Author's Note:**

> sorry this chapter is short but i dunno how to motivate myself to write more lolol


End file.
